You can take no credit for beauty at sixteen. But if you are beautiful at sixty, it will be your read more

You can take no credit for beauty at sixteen. But if you are beautiful at sixty, it will be your soul's own doing. •Marie Carmichael Stopes Do you love me because I'm beautiful, or am I beautiful because you love me?

Ye Gods! but she is wondrous fair!
For me her constant flame appears;
The garland she hath read more

Ye Gods! but she is wondrous fair!
For me her constant flame appears;
The garland she hath culled, I wear
On brows bald since my thirty years.
Ye veils that deck my loved one rare,
Fall, for the crowning triumph's nigh.
Ye Gods! but she is wondrous fair!
And I, so plain a man am I!

the call
of a loon
across
a
quiet lake.

the call
of a loon
across
a
quiet lake.

No object is so beautiful that, under certain conditions, it will not look ugly.

No object is so beautiful that, under certain conditions, it will not look ugly.

It is better to be beautiful than to be good, but it is better to be good than to be read more

It is better to be beautiful than to be good, but it is better to be good than to be ugly.

Beauty is mysterious as well as terrible. God and devil are fighting there, and the battlefield is the heart of read more

Beauty is mysterious as well as terrible. God and devil are fighting there, and the battlefield is the heart of man.

All kinds of beauty do not inspire love; there is a kind which
only pleases the sight, but does read more

All kinds of beauty do not inspire love; there is a kind which
only pleases the sight, but does not captivate the affections.
[Sp., No todas hermosuras enamoran, que algunas alegran la vista,
y no rinden la voluntad.]

... it's a sort of bloom on a woman. If you have it you don't need to have anything else; read more

... it's a sort of bloom on a woman. If you have it you don't need to have anything else; and if you don't have it, it doesn't much matter what else you have.

She is not fair to outward view
As many maidens be;
Her loveliness I never knew
read more

She is not fair to outward view
As many maidens be;
Her loveliness I never knew
Until she smiled on me:
Oh! then I saw her eye was bright,
A well of love, a spring of light.